


complimentary

by sharkplant



Category: Handsome Devil (2016)
Genre: Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Homophobic Language, M/M, internalised biphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 01:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16052774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkplant/pseuds/sharkplant
Summary: ‘You’re still up?’‘You can talk. What is it?’‘I didn’t wake you?’‘Half-asleep. What is it, Ned?’‘I have a question. It’s personal.’





	complimentary

**Author's Note:**

> watched Handsome Devil. Greatly upset by the lack of these two not getting together. So he’s a pre-slash of sorts. I just want my boarding school darlings to feel loved.
> 
> Unbeta’d. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Note on slurs: singular use of the f-slur that’s not used against anyone. couple uses of the q-slur which are self-referential + semi-reclaimitory (Not a word, making it a word)

~~~~The dorm rooms were dark blue at night. Fuzzy eyes could only make out vague shapes of the dressers, posters, the silhouette of one’s roommate.

Ned felt strange sleeping back on the pathetic mattress. Most of the day had been spent in Walter’s office next to his nicotine-soaked step-mother negotiating his return, so he didn’t get the chance to install the mattress top he’d bought over the winter, which wasn’t really winter when he was hauled to The UAE for the holidays.

He was glad to see Conor again. Really glad. 

They emailed a bit over the break; blurry photos of Christmas presents and pets (Natalie had bought a ridiculous pomeranian called Gracie who eventually grew on Ned if only because she had an uncanny ability to pee in Natalie’s shoes if she left them out of their designated cupboard). 

Conor’s mother minded his pet rats, Snowy and Splodge. Ned asked why they couldn’t be kept on campus. Conor said he asked, Walter said it wasn’t advisable. ‘Besides’, Conor had written, ‘they are nocturnal, and as precious as they are, the sound of them scrabbling around can keep you up at night.’

Right now Ned maybe wouldn’t have minded the scrabbling. Give him something to be annoyed at, blame his insomnia on something rather than his own twisty guts. Shit mattress aside. 

They’d swapped presents before. Conor had found a coffee table book of Berlin street art, must’ve been secondhand because the dust jacket was torn around the edges but Ned thought it was stellar, flicking through it until it was time for lights out. Ned had tied a ribbon around a keyring stamped with bold letters, “Give Blood, Play Rugby”. Conor grinned all the way to his eyes.

‘Kind of ironic. Seeing they won’t let me give blood the normal way,’ he’d quipped. Ned felt a guilty pang but Conor wasn’t being serious and the feeling dissipated.

They chatted while Ned pursued his printed gallery, and Conor kept running his thumb over the smooth metal. Even while he was reading, he’d kept an eye on Conor’s thumb running its course.

Like how Ned was fixated on Conor’s breathing now, soft and slow. All he could focus on in the quiet. If he focused hard enough, Ned swore he could see Conor’s chest moving in the darkness.

‘Conor.’ The name was out of his mouth before he realised.

Ned was surprised to hear a hushed, ‘Yeah?’

‘You’re still up?’

‘You can talk. What is it?’

‘I didn’t wake you?’

‘Half-asleep. What is it, Ned?’

‘I have a question. It’s personal.’

‘Anything, what?’

‘How did you know?’

The question dropped like a rock in a pond, a weight in Ned’s stomach. ‘You don’t have to answer it’s-’

‘It might sound cliche, but it was rugby. Watching with my dad when I was twelve or something. Team won, can’t remember which. One of the players did that dumb football thing, like they pull their shirt up over their head. I was dumbstruck by the... construction of him.

‘When other kids started getting stronger because like puberty had kicked in. I hadn’t noticed it before. It had only been about the game. Then it wasn’t. Then it had to be again because no one wants a faggot on their team because there’s nothing worse in the world.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Did you make society the way it is?’ 

‘No..?’

‘Then you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Why’d you ask?’

Ned sniffed. ‘I don’t think I’m straight because...’ He stopped that right there. He missed Conor more than a lot over the break. But he didn’t want his friend more than anything to think he was taking the piss or worse, taking advantage. ‘But I’m not gay because I still like women?’

’Always thought it was weird you had that Suede poster but also the tennis girl with her arse out.’

‘It’s art.’ Ned hushed. ‘And everyone else has got way worse!’

‘Deep commentary on society I’m sure.’ Conor chuckled. Ned liked the sound. ‘You know those aren’t the only two options. Being gay or straight.’

‘I know that. But it feels like muddying the water or something. Like how they used to call me a queer and I didn’t argue because for starters I like my teeth where they are, and secondly they kinda weren’t wrong? At first I thought they were but they weren’t. But that’s not a defence either. “Sorry Weasel, I’m actually only half queer so could you let go of my collar now?”’

Conor huffed a laugh. ‘What cleared it up?’

Ned’s jaw clenched and released. Clenched and released. ‘What Sherry said.’ Half truth for the half queer. ‘Own voice and that.’

‘Is he still on this semester?’ 

‘Saw him in the hallway with a box of books. Headed into the building not out. So I think so.’

‘Neat.’

Conor had been honest. Why couldn’t he?

‘It was you.’

‘What?’

‘Like I could only hear your part in my head. And that you put up with the wall bullshit. And you liked the present and I like how you smiled at it.’

Ned wanted Conor to say something but it wasn’t Conor’s silence to fill.

‘I just didn’t know I could like boys for more than their looks.’

Conor laughed quietly. ‘You’re cute.’

Ned nearly leapt out of bed, alarm bells going off in his head. ‘We should probably sleep proper,’ Ned rushed. ‘Walter wants us up early for assembly and all. Night.’

’Night Ned.’

Ned turned resolutely toward the cold wall. This was fine. Stuff said in the dark didn’t matter.

Rustling from the other side of the room.

Except it mattered a lot and Conor laughed at him and Ned felt too cold and too warm and buzzy in his head. He felt close to tears.

There was pressure on his crappy mattress and his back was shot with cold air for a moment before it was covered with hard warmth. An arm awkwardly snaked under his neck, another curling around his shoulder. Knees pressed into the backs of his. Ned’s breath caught in his chest.

‘Is this okay?’ Goosebumps going up his neck and arms at the whisper. Ned nodded unable to speak. Like speaking would shatter everything lovely about this.

An anxiety floated toward the door. What if someone found them like this?

Conor nuzzled into Ned’s shoulder. He could feel everything, hyperconscious of every place they touched. He could feel Conor’s mouth pressed into his pajama top, the hot breath against his skin. 

Ned relaxed his frame, leaning into the touch. He’d risk being found if it meant this.

He craned his head, pecking a quick kiss against Conor’s bicep. Conor huffed but said nothing. Ned half didn’t want to go to sleep. Prefer to stay up and catalogue every moment of whatever this was.

But he was tired and cozy.

Conor was still there when the room was weak yellow with the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to the other 5 people who watched this film. Ned is bi and I will defend him
> 
> also the year is ambiguous in the film? so i’m pitching by the #aesthetic and lack of “modern” technology, early 90’s? Please call me out if that doesn’t fit uwu


End file.
